


o never give the heart outright

by koroshiyas (lucitae)



Series: never give all the heart, for love [2]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/koroshiyas
Summary: Minhyun wakes up with a stranger in his bed.





	o never give the heart outright

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt based on:  
> "oh god who are you and why are you sleeping in my bed. well this new year started off well"
> 
> This is definitely not what the OP expected. I am so sorry but also I can't do this prompt justice if it was a normal alcohol infused mistake. I didn't even do this justice.

Minhyun blinks blearily, trying to orient himself and maybe conjure up the last dredges of memory from last night. All he gets is the vague impression of loud noises and flashes of color from an alcohol infused evening, which reminds him, once again, to never allow Minki to persuade him into anything ever again. Minhyun flips over, hand flailing out to steady himself. Instead of the surface of the bed or the softness of a pillow, it lands against an arm.

Minhyun sits up, eyes wide, suddenly sober from the spike of fear and adrenaline.

He takes another glance around the room. The color of the sheets, the placement of the wardrobe, and the drapes all indicate that this is his apartment. And yet there is definitely someone else next to him — one he doesn’t recall inviting.

Minhyun leans over, taking a closer look at the slumbering figure at his side. What he had come in contact with moments ago was probably the shoulder judging from the firmness. The man isn’t bad looking and Minhyun might have even considered him handsome under different circumstances. He sleeps, seeming oblivious, deep breaths in and out. There are three moles on his cheek. Minhyun almost feels guilty when he shakes the man by the shoulder.

The man cracks an eye open, face dissolving into a smile the moment his eyes meet Minhyun’s, a rough “morning” slipping through his lips.

Baffled, Minhyun says louder than he had aimed for: “who are you and why are you sleeping in my bed?”

The man just chuckles, still infused by sleep, remarking “this new year started off well” with a tone of amusement.

Minhyun frowns. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Your ex-fiance,” he answers easily with a grin.

The man sits up upon the lapse of silence. A look of concern worn upon his face as he leans closer, studying Minhyun’s expression. “It was a joke,” he says more to himself than to anyone else, the _you’re supposed to get it_ remains unsaid. He reaches out with one hand, brushing away Minhyun’s bangs before he presses the back of his hand against Minhyun’s forehead. His other hand checking his own temperature. The familiarity of the gesture makes Minhyun freeze for a second.

“Who are you?” Minhyun echoes like an exhaled breath.

“You hurt me, Minhyunie,” the man says tone light and playful and yet his eyes barely veil how Minhyun’s words had affected him. The words of affection and the look the man gives him almost compels Minhyun to apologize to a stranger.

Minhyun parts his lips.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” the man says after retracting his hands, tone gentle.

“December 31, 2017. We were counting down to the new year.”

The man runs a hand through his hair, laughing under his breath.

“Why?”

“It’s January 1st, 2028.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The bottom of the earthenware mug clinks against the surface of the counter top. “Drink up,” the man says with a soft smile. Minhyun catches the band, white gold he assumes, on the fourth finger of the man’s hand. One of the screw motifs is replaced by a diamond. Minhyun raises the mug to his lips. _Cartier_ he thinks dismissively wondering what kind of human would be tacky enough to buy a ring for its brand.

The tea is steeped perfectly. Minhyun sets it down in pleasant surprise.

The man chuckles at the sight of Minhyun’s expression. “Figured you would prefer this to coffee.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Minhyun retorts, lips tugging down into a frown.

The man’s lips curl in amusement, a sort of glee hidden behind eyes as he takes a sip from his mug, “you will. Not often. Maybe once a week but you will.”

“Who are you?” Minhyun finds himself asking for the third time.

“Ong Seongwoo,” the man introduces himself, leaning against the counter for support as both hands cup the mug in his hand. Probably nursing his tea judging from the lack of the smell of coffee perforating the house. “Your husband,” he holds up the hand sporting the ring, “future I mean.” Minhyun nearly chokes on his tea. How had his tastes changed over the years? “We met 9 years ago. You were the new accountant assigned to my team. Started dating two years after that. Got engaged. We got married last year on December 17. 2026 not 2027.” He flashes Minhyun what he assumes was supposed to be a disarming smile.

There’s a weird curl at the pit of Minhyun’s stomach. He makes a face.

“What do you do now?” he asks, desperately trying to distract himself from the turn of events.

“I own my own advertising agency. You’re still my accountant.”

Minhyun takes another sip. “Do…” he tries to search for the proper phrasing before settling on “we do well?”

“Relatively,” Seongwoo chuckles, eyes crinkling in the corners, “but we also promised to not talk about work related issues at home.” He adds a wink at the very end of it. Minhyun deadpans and Seongwoo cracks up. It’s loud but not obnoxious and Minhyun’s chest swells at the sound.

Minhyun looks around. Everything is the same as it always has been. Minor differences that can be overlooked easily if one wasn’t paying attention are scattered throughout his apartment. Additional portraits on his bookshelf or on his walls, more utensils and mugs residing in cupboards, double the amount of shoes and coats near the entranceway, and the list continues. Minhyun takes another sip.

Seongwoo smiles again, expression fond as he notes: “I’m glad you like it. Took me years of practice before I managed to make it the way you like it.”

“You make it better,” Minhyun allows himself to say. It’s worth it. Seongwoo’s face lights up, unable to hide the happiness.

“Good to know,” he replies. “Eggs?” A quick question accompanied by a sheepish expression as he retrieves a box of them from the fridge and starts the stove to warm up the pan. “Or something else?”

“Eggs are fine,” Minhyun answers with a nod.

He sets the mug back down before exploring the traces of his married life. His apartment has more signs of life than it used to. A bit more untidy but not to the point it would drive him insane. No longer the space he rented just for a place to sleep ( and why not with all the money he was making and no where to put it towards? ). The sofa now hosts two cushions of different colors. The table in front of it has magazines neatly placed in a corner and laptop to the side. Some spreadsheets splayed across with a pen lying on top of them. He picks one up, studies the numbers, smiles at seeing all the notes to the side. Apparently some habits just don’t go away with time.

“How come you didn’t move?”

Seongwoo turns around. The bow that fastens the pink apron to his frame contrasts against his black shirt. He hums under his breath. “It has great view,” he gestures with a spatula at the large windows next to where Minhyun is standing and the overview of the river, “and we got used to it? Sure it might not be convenient in terms commuting to work but everything comes down to familiarity.”

Minhyun turns towards the window. Seoul’s concrete veins remain congested even during holidays — more so perhaps.

“Are you happy?”

Seongwoo sets down two plates that make an audible noise against the table, prompting Minhyun to turn around. Seongwoo slides the egg onto the plates before pulling the toast from the toaster. He meets Minhyun’s eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I have everything I want in life.”

“And me?”

Seongwoo’s expression turns pensive as he still for a second, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The doubt disappears moments later. Eyes clear and honest when he says: “I would hope so.” The next part comes a little quieter. “If, just once, I manage to make you feel as if meeting me was a blessing — then I would be the most fortunate man on this planet.”

Something in Minhyun floods to the surface — making it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. Seongwoo notices, of course, and rushes to Minhyun’s side.

“It’s okay,” he says with a sort of gentleness that allows Minhyun to give in, rest his head on sturdy shoulders as a comforting hand runs through his hair. “It’s okay, Minhyun-ah. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minhyun blinks blearily, trying to orient himself, turning towards the clock on his night stand. It reads 8:37am on 1/2/2018. Minhyun groans and rolls over, hand falling to his side and it finds the only the bed. The space is cold.

 _If you find it in yourself to give me a chance_ , Seongwoo had said with an embarrassed laugh last night before he vacated the room, letting Minhyun take the bed as he chose to spend his night on the couch, _I know you don’t drink but the younger me didn’t. He’s quite cowardly so it took a while for him to work up his courage to ask you out despite that guise of confidence_.

 _Advertising yourself to me_ , Minhyun had teased. Something about Seongwoo made it so easy for Minhyun to settle into some sort of rhythm. Perhaps it was from all the years Seongwoo had spent with the older version of Minhyun.

 _I have to try_ , was Seongwoo’s answer, almost sheepish, _you were the best thing that happened to me that year_.

_And the next?_

_I got a promotion_. Making Minhyun laugh at that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Minhyun?” Seongwoo asks from the doorway, voice tentative, bordering nervous.

Minhyun grumbles from beneath the covers as an answer and it prompts Seongwoo to draw closer, still bundled in his blankets he had gathered from the couch.

“Minhyun?” he tries again, sauntering closer, leaning over to study Minhyun’s sleeping profile, “Do you know who I am?”

Minhyun cracks on eye open, taking in the look of fear despite the playful grin on lips. “Hmm,” he sounds and turns his head in the other direction, “my ex-fiancé. What are you doing here?”

Minhyun doesn’t have to turn around to see the growing grin on Seongwoo’s face and smiles when he feels a pair of lips press against his cheek.

“It’s husband now, mind you,” Seongwoo retorts as Minhyun scoots over to make space for Seongwoo. There’s no steel to his voice, just unadulterated affection that seeps through.

“Says the one who started this joke in the first place,” Minhyun replies easily, turning around when the bed dips under Seongwoo’s weight.

“Did you miss me?” Seongwoo asks, searching Minhyun’s eyes for the answer, still bundled up in blankets so that the corner wraps against his cheeks, obscuring the collection of moles from sight.

“Some days I find myself wondering what life was like before I met you.” Minhyun grins in such a coquettish manner Seongwoo almost dreads the next sentence. “I think I could return to that lifestyle easily. Make good on your claims.” Minhyun props himself up by his elbows, resting his chin in the palm of his hand before he hums, thinking out loud. “Who was it that you introduced me as your ex-fiancé to?” he drums his fingers against his cheek, “was it Minki? Or Jisung? Or Sungwoon? I’ve lost track.”

“Minhyun,” Seongwoo whines, quickly propping himself up as well, lower lip jutting out. “It was a joke. And I said ex-fiancé not ex-husband.” He reaches forward, wrapping his arms around Minhyun’s to draw him closer, lips puckering in an attempt to get in Minhyun’s favor once more.

Minhyun laughs and shoves Seongwoo’s shoulder to keep him away. “Gross,” he says, nose scrunching, “morning breath.”

“Minhyunie,” Seongwoo tries again.

Minhyun laughs again, collapsing back onto his pillow, drawing his blankets over his head as Seongwoo desperately tries to pry them out of his hands still making the same kissy noises.

He waits until Seongwoo gives up trying to pull the blanket from him. Waits until Seongwoo becomes patient with both arms on either side of Minhyun, allowing Minhyun to surface on his own time. Minhyun lowers the blankets from his face then and smiles up at the Seongwoo who stares down at him as if he is the only thing that matters. A gaze so unwavering it makes his heart skip a beat. He pushes himself up with his elbows, closing the distance, pressing his lips against Seongwoo’s.

“Ongcheongie,” he exhales against Seongwoo’s lips that have curved into a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... um... my only explanation is: [Bovino tech](http://reborn.wikia.com/wiki/Ten_Year_Bazooka) (from Katekyo Hitman Reborn) except instead of it lasting 5 minutes it lasts a day and they may or may not have switched only the brain/soul??? Who knows.
> 
> The wedding ring they got for each other is [this one](http://www.cartier.com/en-us/collections/engagement/gifts/wedding-bands-men/b4050500-love-wedding-band,-1-diamond.html).
> 
> Untranslatable words, or words that are hard to capture their meaning/feeling gives me endless headaches. When Seongwoo talks about blessing/fortune the term I'm going for is 幸福, which encompasses so much. Happiness, a blessing, fortunate.
> 
> The jokes about ex-fiance/being married is based on my rough recollection of the tumblr post "help, my wife can't stop referring to me as her ex-fiance all the time... we just got married." If you find the original message me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dulcetfairytale) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/lucitae).
> 
> I'm so soft for onghwang. Has been since 061617.


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